


sting

by arolyth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:42:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arolyth/pseuds/arolyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is the beginning of something and i chose to start with the pairing that i don't even like that much but i didn't see any other pairing that would fit the idea so that's my excuse</p><p>edit: thank you for the comments, bookmarks and kudos! i don't want to reply bc it messes up the comment counter and my comments on my own work shouldn't count</p></blockquote>





	sting

Sitting on their king-sized bed, smoke overlapping the timid smell of two scents of shower gels mixing together, sweat vanishing and a hint of new sheets staying, someone got up from the other side. The remnants of a cigarette thrown into the trash can that was in need to be emptied, Kuroo walked towards the bathroom door, leaving no words behind, as always.

Tsukishima puffed the smoke out of his lungs, back against a wall. He could hear the sounds coming out of their shower, water covering the hickeys he made, almost nothing compared to Kuroo's artwork on his own pale skin. It wasn't beautiful or sexy anymore. It became something usual and normal, just like hair. Not that he hated it. He just didn't have room to care, all of it was reserved. But still empty.

Feeling the time running around him, with a click of the front door Tsukishima tossed the cigarette away and pulled out another one. Three in the morning wasn't something they predicted, and squeezing all their love in five hours became a thing they got used to. Losing love in the process didn't matter.

A bright fire lightened up his insides, and a lot of smoke came out again. How could they end up like this was one of the questions left at the back of his mind. Maybe it all started when Tsukishima stopped caring about his lover's career choices-- not that he had much to choose from. On the other hand, Tsukishima got himself a pretty good job as a secretary, but something was still missing. Kuroo coming back touched more than he should at 10 AM, two hours after Tsukishima left the apartment wasn't healthy. Nothing about their relationship was healthy.

He moved closer to the edge of the bed, lightly letting his hand slide on the messy sheets and sat on the spot his boyfriend sat, taking another breath. 

They could end this right now. They both got tired of this a long time ago. They knew that this was going to happen.

There was just something incredibly wrong besides their relationship, besides all this. It was like they stood perfectly still now, but if someone made a change, the already cracked glass everything was built on would break. And Tsukishima was sure that he didn't have the wings to fly away from the crash that was about to happen. So maybe it was better to leave it like this; to leave it broken.

When their eyes met back then, the reaction would create a spark and set everything on fire. But nothing could withstand multiple fires this strong, and now it was just a familiar feeling both of them hated. No fire, no spark, but they still burned, they still desperately searched for air in the dark nights which once belonged to them. Touching felt like heaven in hell, pleasure and light in the heat. You get used to pleasure, light fades out after a while and maybe the heat stayed beside their bed.

Twenty-four years old and already dead and burying himself in cigarettes-- that was Tsukishima Kei. Not much different from Kuroo, who was only two (or was it three?) years older and actually the reason it ended like this. Remembering their first time, Tsukishima considered actually burying himself. He was so pathetic back then and thought that something like love was present in their relationship from the start. Mistaking attraction for love was way more usual than he'd think at first; just idiocy of the young brains, and he chuckled at it now. Unbelievable.

His cold feet stood up on the freezing floor, socks left behind. They were tossed away earlier, forgotten, just like the rest of their clothes. Their nights seemed wild, just like them. But everything was way too real to be wild and enjoyable. An addiction could be the way to describe it, just like cigarettes. 

Changing the bed sheet and blanket covers, Tsukishima fell asleep again.

And maybe a person close to him fell asleep around that time, too. Only under different blankets.

  


**I told you I'm sorry  
** **Couldn't thank you enough**  
 **I thought that I loved you but**  
 **We weren't in love**  
 **We weren't in love**  
 _-The NBHD, Sting_

  


Sitting on their king-sized bed, smoke overlapping the timid scent of a shower gel, a hint of new sheets staying, someone cried. The remnants of a cigarette thrown into the trash can that was in need to be emptied, Tsukishima tried to breathe, to feel his lungs filling up with the air which he once loved the smell of.

But only smoke got out of his lungs, vanishing in the cold atmosphere. He couldn't hear the sounds coming out of their shower, water didn't cover the hickeys which he made, almost nothing compared to Kuroo's once visible artwork on his own pale skin. It wasn't beautiful or sexy back then. It became something usual and normal, just like hair. Just like his clear skin now. He just didn't have room to care, all of it was reserved. But still empty, and it will stay like that.

Feeling the time running around him, with no click of the front door Tsukishima let his head rest on his hands. Three in the morning was something usual for him, even though he really needed to get up at seven. There was no love to get lost anymore.

There was no fire to lighten up his insides and yet a lot of smoke came out again. How could they end up like this was one of the questions left at the back of his mind. Maybe it all started when Tsukishima stopped caring about his lover's career choices-- not that he had much to choose from. On the other hand, Tsukishima got himself a pretty good job as a secretary, but something was still missing. Kuroo coming back was only a dream, an illusion now, and Tsukishima wished that he could forget about it all.

He was so close to the edge, lightly letting his hand slide on his tear-stained face, sitting on the spot his boyfriend sat back then, taking another breath.

It ended, just like that. It ended a long time ago. He didn't know that this was going to happen.

There was just something incredibly wrong with the end. It was like everything started running again, like he was the one that held the time in place. And when he got away, well, who was there to hold it for him? Who else would Tsukishima let this close? Not Kuroo again.

When their eyes met back then, the reaction wouldn't create sparks and fires. Still, it was something. They both knew eachother, knew that they're alive and there. Exchanging touches and warm breaths, marks and bacteria, even though it wasn't romantic, even though the love there was missing, Tsukishima could feel the heat even if it was covered under the bed sheets. Now there was a cold, numb sensation not close to anything he would ever want to feel before. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate it.

Twenty-five years old and already dead and burying himself in cigarettes-- that was Tsukishima Kei. Not much different from what he was a year ago, but missing a piece. But maybe he wasn't a puzzle, just like everyone seems to be. Maybe he was something like the hole in a doghnut, never used for anything and no one really cares if it's there in the first place. Remembering his first time, Tsukishima suprisingly didn't consider burying himself. He was so pathetic back then, yes. But what was in the past was meant to stay there and rot in the dirt. Mistaking attraction for love was one of his mistakes, way more usual than he'd think at first; just idiocy of the young brains, and he chuckled at it now. Unbelievable.

His cold feet stood up on the freezing floor, socks left behind. They were tossed away earlier, forgotten, just like the rest of his clothes. His nights were tear-stained and clear, just like Tsukishima. But everything seemed way too surreal and still to be clear and painful. An absence of something, maybe someone could be the way to describe it.

Changing the bed sheet and blanket covers which were not dirty, Tsukishima fell asleep again.

And maybe a person close to him fell asleep too. Around a year ago.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the beginning of something and i chose to start with the pairing that i don't even like that much but i didn't see any other pairing that would fit the idea so that's my excuse
> 
> edit: thank you for the comments, bookmarks and kudos! i don't want to reply bc it messes up the comment counter and my comments on my own work shouldn't count


End file.
